


ivory, marvel.

by dewitts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Letters, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, actually no bucky, bucky fanfic with no bucky lmao, very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dewitts/pseuds/dewitts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i feel like i'm dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

** JOURNAL ENTRY I **

-

 

_he's gone_

 

-


	2. two

**JOURNAL ENTRY II**

-

_i've only ever seen one person grieve._

_myself_

_am I doing it right I feel like I'm not doing it right I'm probably not_

_Something is wrong I know something is wrong he's gone and I can't fix it i don't know what to do he would know what to do. I can't decide what to do with my life I'm dead now._

_I think i may kill myself one day_

_for now I'll just learn how to grieve_

-


	3. three

** JOURNAL ENTRY III **

-

_Dream last night. It was snowing. There_ _was_ _blood_ _everywhere_ _._

_There was so much blood and it_ _wasn't_ _even red._

_It_ _was_ _black_ _and_ _I_ _saw_ _my hands they were painted black._

 _There_ _was_ _so much_ _black_ _black_ _black black. It was rotten. It smelled_ _awful_ _and_ _I_ _could taste it it was like medicine. Was it meant to cleanse me_ _I'm_ _not bad. I think_ _I'm_ _gonna go bad._

 _I'm_ _going bad and_ _I_ _taste it in my mouth._ _I'm_ _tasting_ _the_ _black_ _right now._

_I feel disgusting._

_I feel poisoned._

_-_


	4. four

**JOURNAL ENTRY IV**

-

_my friend says i should try and write letters because she's a fucking moron she has no idea i can't really i really can't she can't make me do this_

_he's gone i can't deal with him being gone_

_i'm scared_

_what if he's dead and i don't know if he is i'm just waiting i want to die because the wait is too much it's too much and i can't fucking write letters they're not going anywhere i won't send them_

_i'm not going to write any letters_

_she can rot in hell_

_she doesn't understand how_

_i'm scared_

_i'm so scared_

-


	5. five

** JOURNAL ENTRY V **

-

 

_bye_

 

_bye_

 

_-_

 

 


	6. six

** JOURNAL ENTRY VI **

-

 

_i'm still alive._

_but i tried to kill myself i really tried._

 

_i took a shard of glass and sliced my wrist._

_there was so much blood_

_and nothing happened_

 

 

_i should be dead_

_there's an open wound on my body and it seeped all the blood it had onto my lap_

_but i'm still here_

_i'm just still here_

 

_something is happening to me_

 

_i think i may write to bucky_

 

_-_


	7. seven

** JOURNAL ENTRY VII **

-

 

_i tried to write a letter but it was hopeless_

_i'm just so alone and i don't want to fool myself into thinking that he'll write back._

 

_are you really here? are you real? can you hear me?_

_i'm not crazy, but i am going crazy i don't want to go crazy please don't let me go crazy._

_maybe i never tried to kill myself maybe it was all a dream._

 

_so i think i'll try again._

-


	8. eight

** JOURNAL ** ** ENTRY VIII **

-

_why_ _won't_ _this world let me fucking die_

_-_


	9. nine

  
** JOURNAL ** ** ENTRY IX **

-

 _I_ _have tried blade and_ _rope_ _and it_ _doesn't_ _work why_ _won't_ _it_ _work_ _what_ _is_ _wrong_ _with_ _me_ _please_ _tell me_ _what's_ _wrong_ _did_ _I_ _do something wrong_

_Do_ _I_ _deserve this what did_ _I_ _do please tell_ _me_ _if_ _you're_ _listening_

_What did_ _I_ _do?_

_I'm_ _going_ _to try again_

_This_ _time_ _water must work._

-


	10. ten

** JOURNAL ENTRY X **

-

 

_there's water stuck in my lungs and i can't get it out_

_when i tried to drown myself, i simply lived and came back up i still feel like i can't breathe i'm drowning i'm still drowning._

_i keep trying to puke it up but it's still all there. it's coated my throat with salt, it's burning my chest i'm burning inside there is water stuck inside me._

 

_nobody knows how to stop constantly drowning i don't know what it happening to me_

_i need him_

 

_i need him now more than ever and i can't have him because he's gone and i'm just trying to be with him but this fucking world don't let me_

_he would know what to do._

_he always knew what to do._

 

_-_


	11. eleven

** LETTER I **

-

 

_dear bucky,_

 

_i need you_

 

_love, theodora_

 

-

 

** [UNSENT] **


	12. twelve

  
** JOURNAL ENTRY XI **

-

_I_ _am going to try again_

_I'll_ _try again and again again again... and again_

_It's_ _not_ _working_ _and_ _I_ _don't_ _fucking know why_

_If it_ _doesn't_ _work more than twice_

_Then what is wrong with me_

_-_


	13. thirteen

  
** JOURNAL ENTRY XII **

-

_hello again_

_It's_ _been a while_

_I've_ _been too busy destroying myself_

_Killing myself_

_Very busy_

_Too concentrated on getting rid of myself_ _I_ _forgot to write in you_

_It's_ _funny how bucky was the_ _one_ _to give this to me as a_ _going_ _away gift, a kind of companion when he_ _wasn't_ _here because he knew how lonely_ _I_ _was_

_He knew that he was one of the only_ _people_ _I_ _had_

_I had_ _Steve_ _, though... but he still left_

_They all_ _left_ _and_ _was_ _never_ _coming back_

 _They_ _never_ _come_ _back they_ _always_ _leave_ _and Bucky knew that_

_He knew that so he gave me_ _you_

_I miss him_

_And_ _I_ _can't_ _die_

 _I've_ _found that_ _I_ _can't_ _die_

-


	14. fourteen

-

 

Her jaw hurt the most. It was like a wrench opening up her mouth tightly, turning the lever opening wider and wider till there was enough room to stick the barrel down her throat. It tasted awful, her tongue becoming squashed, her teeth biting down onto the gun.

She felt a gag coming up, her left hand briefly reaching up to clutch her throat - in hopes of not puking on the weapon.

She steadied the gun in her hands, tears streaming into her mouth. The taste of metal and salt coating her tongue, her breath hot on the silver surface.

Her finger came up to the trigger, brushing it gently back and forth, her whimpers echoing on the material.

Her knees cried out in pain as she knelt down, Theo's lungs screaming for more air, breathing in and out heavily, sharply, quickly - until she was panicking and she had to shut her eyes tightly, in hopes of collecting her soul.

"No," was repeated from her throat, being muffled by the gun there. She almost felt it hit the back of her neck, and her fingers fumbled for the trigger.

A sudden sense of ' _do it_ ' struck her, and her actions were quick and the trigger was pulled.

A sharp intake of air, a combustion of tissues and puzzle-pieces of her skull, and a noise like shattering bone. She felt like glass, tearing apart inside her mind.

Blood poured from her nose, mouth, and eyes, dribbling down her chin and neck. Crimson streams down her pale, sickly skin, more taste of metal and smoke.

The gun dropped to the ground, her hands shaking. She breathed out a puff of grey air, coughing the ashy scent into the space around her, more tears mixing with blood that seeped down her cheeks.

A hole was left at the back of her head, and yet here she was - breathing.

All she could do was scream, red teeth and veins turning black, her soul aging but her body not. The area around her eyes turning dark, as the long, desperate sound sliced its way through the house.

The blood she tasted, smelt, felt, turned ebony and empty like how she was inside.

She dribbled with black blood and desperation for death, and she was _never_ going to get the latter.

 

-


	15. fifteen

  
** JOURNAL ENTRY XIII **

-

_it's_ _been thirty years and_ _I'm_ _sorry we_ _haven't_ _talked_

_I was too busy again_

_I've_ _finally_ _come to terms with the fact that_ _I_ _can't_ _die_

 _I've_ _managed to patch_ _up_ _my wounds, but they still look messy and_ _obvious_ _so_ _I_ _wrap_ _them_ _in black and stay in the shadows_

 _I found myself in the alleyway last night, watching_ _a man_ _stumble through the_ _concrete_ _painting_ _and_ _I_ _couldn't_ _help_ _myself_

_He_ _didn't_ _make it_ _home_

_Wherever that_ _is_

_I have no troubles about it_

_The times have changed but_ _I_ _haven't_ _. I look_ _he_ _same but the people_ _around_ _me are wilting._ _They're_ _greying_

 _I'm_ _still me with the exception of white_ _follicles_ _appearing_ _around_ _the hole in my head._

 _It's_ _funny, the_ _place_ _where a_ _part_ _of_ _my_ _brain used to be_ _still_ _feels_ _like_ _it's_ _still there. Now and again_ _I_ _cry blood because of what_ _I_ _did to myself._

 _I_ _couldn't_ _really_ _get a good look since_ _I've_ _told_ _no one._

_No_ _one_ _can_ _know_ _._

_This is_ _my_ _secret._

_And now_ _it's_ _our secret._

_Keep it for me._

_-_


	16. sixteen

  
**LETTER II**

-

_Dear Bucky,_

I'm glad you can't see me now. Do you know what age does to you?

Do you know what solitude does to you? Because I don't think you do.

I don't think you understand what it is like to see the people around you wither away and you're just here, forced to watch. Forced to live and never give your life for anything. To never risk it or put it on the line.

It gives you no purpose. You're just on a loop of trying to forget the day before.

Because when you come home reeking of guilt, and covered in blood there is simply nothing else you can do.

I can't do anything but live and it's killing me.

I don't believe that you die once in your life I don't think people know the true meaning.

It's not your heart stopping or your lungs emptying.

It's crippling.

And nobody understands.

Do you remember when I died?

Before you left, when I had no one.

And then you left.

You killed me.

And I'm forced to die everyday.

_Love, Theodora_

-


	17. seventeen

** JOURNAL ENTRY XIV **

-

 

_i met someone today and they said they could help. it's not every day someone points out that the veins around your eyes turn black every time your bloodlust peaks._

_i had never seen myself like that - there never really was a mirror at hand._

 

_so they said they could help - they said there was other people like me - people with abilities and people who understood._

_even if they understood, that wouldn't stop them from being scared._

 

_i feel like this is a chance to make my life worth living, even if i am far from it._

 

_he gave me a choice to go with him, to meet the people that understood - he knew everything about me, and he knew what i was capable of._

 

_i decided to meet these people and we're on our way._

 

_see you on the other side._

 

-


	18. eighteen

** JOURNAL ENTRY XV **

-

  
_I_ _should have run_  
  


_Run_

_Run_

_Run_

_As fast as you can_

_You_ _can't_ _catch me_  


_I am no man_

_-_


	19. nineteen

-

As her head was lowered, the man couldn't help but take notice of the silver tendrils sprouting from the wound on the back of her head. The hole there that was messy and discoloured. Like anyone else who actually saw it, all he had was curiosity.

Not only for the wound, but for her.

Nobody uttered her name, they only called her " _six_ ". Yet nobody had any idea why they called her that, why the people running this place called her that number.

With a swift command by the person behind him, he carried on with his work.

The man took his shining scalpel, and pierced the skin right between her breasts. Blood slowly spilled as he trailed it down to her navel, cutting her open harshly. He extended the cutting towards her shoulders, creating a mangled " _y_ " in her flesh.

Her skin was stark white, paired with her deep and smoky eyes made her ghostly. Looking at her automatically struck fear in you, as if your brain uttered an official warning that came with looking at Six.

Six was five foot four, brown hair, grey eyes, under a hundred pounds and deathly pale. Her hands looked like crooked branches, splaying beside her with discoloured knuckles and cracked fingertips.

She was, for lack of a better word, probably dying.

Her body looked like it had given up completely.

The man, who caught himself staring at her for too long sometimes, stuck a piece of metal between her ribs and started to wrench her bones open.

She was a show, her organs were black like a dead persons. But the man saw Six's lungs inflating and deflating at a steady pace.

She was dead, but somehow still living.

" позвоните мне , когда вы найдете что-то полезное ." The man behind him spoke, then turned to leave through the door.

The man still looking at Six shuddered at what she had to offer, and he took a finger to trail along her collarbone and just underneath her jaw. His hand went down her shoulders, to her hands but he stopped, because he was suddenly disgusted.

He poked and prodded at her organs and skin for hours, coming up with nothing that explained how she was still breathing.

He used to think she was queen-like, beautiful and ethereal.

Now all he saw were her black insides. The hole at the back of her head.

He was utterly disgusted at her.

He found his hands wandering more, though, to places she never gave permission for. To places that people should be disgusted at _him_ for.

When he found nothing useful, nothing more extensive research would have to unfold, he stitched her back up lazily.

The transparent plastic stitches stuck out of her, coiling in her skin tightly and losely at different points.

He violated her. Whilst she was still breathing but could do nothing about it.

" ты лучше," he said. "Вы прекрасны."

He wheeled her back into the metal morgue, her muscles shivered frantically in the casing. The darkness in there being the only thing she knew when she woke up.

She felt like she couldn't breathe, and the only thing that got her through it, was that when they had sent someone after her, someone that never seemed to stop, when she had ripped the mask away from his face...

_It was Bucky's._

-


	20. twenty

** LETTER III **

-

_d_ _ear Bucky,_

you were there and you let them take me. hell... you were the one that did take me.

why were you there? why were you helping them tear me apart?

how are you even still alive?

did you know that I have been waiting decades for you, whilst everyone around me died and I was just here?

do even remember how much we loved each other, how much we meant to each other?

and now something has happened to you and you let them violate me.

was it even you? is my mind playing tricks on me and it wasn't actually you who took me? - because the bucky i know would never do that to me.

whoever told me you only die once... whoever that was, it's not true. i really don't believe that death only plays on one plain. it doesn't just take, it takes.

i died when you left and i die every day you don't come back. every day you probably have peace and i feel like just slitting my throat so i don't have to die anymore.

i clean up the mess every morning, i pick up the pieces and i wait for my death the next day.

my grief has become routine, an everlasting circle, a roundabout i can't get off. like i'm driving for hours in a poison car.

i feel disgusting. i feel poisoned.

my years are gone and i've aged, my skin is old and my bones are dust.

and i just feel like i want to fucking die.

but i can't, bucky. i tried. i really did and i only woke up to die right on time that day.

my friends are gone, they were given peace. they grew grey and i'm here with tight skin and the same eyes. i haven't changed.

i look in the mirror and look the same as the day you left.

i should have peace.

it's been years, and i should be dead.

but i'm just not.

i feel like i'm dying.

but i can't die.

i know i can't, i've tried to more than once.

but i just keep dying every day that i think there's no soul in me left to give to death in exchange for peace

i have rage in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine. bucky - you must not meet me again.

because if I were to see your face again

i can only think of killing you.

_love, theodora_

_-_


End file.
